


At the stroke of midnight

by StarryDreamer



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryDreamer/pseuds/StarryDreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz meets her for the first time at the stroke of midnight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the stroke of midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anytha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anytha/gifts).



> The bringing over from FFN continues! I hope you enjoy!

Fitz wasn’t expecting to meet anyone special at Daisy Johnson’s annual New Year’s Eve party.

Certainly, he couldn’t have imagined that he’d meet the very woman he’d want to spend the rest of his life with.  But he does. He first notices her standing by the fireplace with a wineglass in hand.  She’s seemingly flirting with some large man who has, what he figures is, an impossible-to-achieve body type.  She touches the man’s arm and Fitz’s heart sinks at the sight. He’d once read that that’s how women show that they’re interested, and since the party is populated with mostly smug marrieds, the probability that she’s attached to the incredibly large man is very high.  So high that he wouldn’t even place a bet against it.

He decidedly avoids the woman he thinks might be the most aching beautiful person he’s ever seen.  Instead, true to fashion, he maneuvers his way around the flat, stealing hors d’oeuvres from various platters. While snacking on a mini hot dog he obsessively watches the strange cat-shaped clock in the hallway and bides his time.  He has no intention of staying to witness the ugly cat’s tongue slip out when the second hand finally hits the hour mark.

When he sees that midnight is drawing near, he moves to make his escape.  But, where Leo Fitz is concerned, casual and inconspicuous are not his forte and that becomes abundantly clear when he attempts to slip on his boots.  He reaches out for a shelf in order to balance himself and the entire thing with all its odd knickknacks crash to the floor.  Thankfully, the music’s a touch too loud and the guests are a touch too drunk to notice.

All except one, that is.

She scrambles to help him clean up the mess and pieces of her curled hair brush his cheek as he picks up the remnants of some faux crystal ashtray.  His face is hot with embarrassment and he can’t thank the stranger enough, but time is quickly fading and he can see the cat’s hand is inching closer than ever to the fateful hour.

“Are you leaving?” she asks as she drops the last of the broken pieces into the rubbish bin she’d grabbed from the loo.  She slaps her hands together to rid herself of any lingering particles. “You can’t leave; it’s almost midnight!”

He turns and reaches for his coat from the pile that hangs on the coat tree by the door.  “That’s exactly why I have to leave,” he blurts without thinking.  “Rather, I have… a thing… Just I--” he fishes helplessly and slips his arms into his coat sleeves, shrugging it on over his shoulders.   

She frowns momentarily before jutting out her hand.  “I’m Jemma Simmons.  It’s a pleasure.”

He looks at her hand and then up at her pretty, oval-shaped face.  His heart thumps heavily and he curses its betrayal.  “Leo Fitz,” he replies, accepting her hand shake as he clears his throat.  “Rather, it’s just Fitz.  Nice to meet--”

“Wait!” she says, dropping his hand and leaning in closer as if inspecting him.  “Leo Fitz, the famous astrophysicist?”

“Famous?” His voice cracks with shock.  He’d never heard that moniker before.  “Who would say… er-- I mean...  Yes.” He can’t help but feel a bit chuffed as he straightens his tie and squares his shoulders.  “I’m he --  _ him _ . You’ve heard of me?”

“Heard of you?” She laughs and tucks a strand a hair behind her ear before reaching out and letting her hand graze his arm.  “I’ve read all your work.  Fascinating stuff!  I actually participated in the peer review of your incapacitating cartridge emitting railgun; it was fantastic.”

He blinks, stunned. “You reviewed the I.C.E.R?”

She nods, a grin wide on her lips.  “I’m the one who suggested upping the dosage of the dendrotoxin to ensure the cartridge’s ability to incapacitate.”  

Fitz’s mouth opens and closes with shock.  “That was you?” he asks.  “I tried finding out who it was that had suggested that, but you know how these things work; it’s all anonymous.  The editors never tell you anything.”  He shakes his head, stunned and offers her a grateful smile.  “But… thank you.  Truly.  What you suggested was inspired. Quite brilliant, actually.  And quite right at that.”

Jemma moves to reply but she’s cut off by the very thing that Fitz had been trying to avoid: the countdown to midnight.  

12… 11… 10… 9...

“Bloody hell…” he mutters.  His gaze darts toward the door and he wonders if it’s even still possible for him to make his escape.  

“Oh, don’t leave!” Her insistence takes him momentarily by surprise.

8… 7… 6....

When she reaches for his hand, Fitz makes an inarticulate sound in protest and she chuckles amiably at his apparent discomfort.

5… 4… 3…

“Please Fitz, just stay.”  Her hazel eyes seem to sparkle almost playfully.

The second hand is millimeters from its destination. It’s too late; he’s trapped and he’ll have to suffer and watch as everyone around him  _ couples, _ ringing in the new year.

2… 1...

His shoulders sag and his eyes fall to the ground; he can’t bear for her to see his embarrassing predicament.

_ Alone on new year’s, how impressive. _

“Happy new year,” Jemma says jovially, squeezing his hand and he can feel her step toward him.

“Happy new --”

The word “year” dies on his lips as she presses up on the balls of her stockinged feet and kisses him.  Her lips are soft and inviting and her fingers curl into the hair at the base of his neck.  He can’t help but lose himself in the feel of her and his arms automatically wrap around her, pulling her tightly against him.

From that point forward, Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz find themselves inseparable.  They are not only partners in life, but in work as well, and ringing in the new year has somehow become their shared anniversary.  It’s a way to commemorate a seized opportunity that altered both their paths.  No longer could they count themselves among the singletons at Daisy’s yearly event; they would find themselves instead among those whom Fitz had once avoided: the smug marrieds.

It’s also why when Jemma receives an offer to present at a conference in Las Vegas, Fitz can’t hide his disappointment.  It would be their first New Year’s apart since they’d met and even though Jemma offers to cancel her appearance, Fitz understands that the presentation is a chance of a lifetime and not one that she should turn down.  

So a deal is struck: while Jemma is in Las Vegas, Fitz will attend Daisy’s party and at the party he’ll mingle (begrudgingly) with the other guests and snack (not so begrudgingly) on as many hors d’oeuvres as he can stomach.  When the cat’s arm begins to click closer to midnight, he’ll make his exit much like he’d done before he’d ever met Jemma Simmons.

On December 31st, he does just as he’d planned and with minutes to spare, he makes his way to the front door. As he pulls on his boots (carefully avoiding any and all nearby furniture) he’s nearly thrown off balance when he hears Jemma’s voice.

“These mini hot dogs are quite peculiar.”

He rights himself and turns, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Wha--? How--?”

She feigns ignorance as she steps toward him, offering him the other half of her hors d’oeuvre.  He shakes his head, stunned into silence by her unexpected appearance. 

“You sure?” she asks and he nods his assurance. “They really are oddly delicious.” She pops the last of it into her mouth and chews, her grin growing as her ability to hold fast to her performance wanes.

“I thought… the presentation... “ He really is at a loss for words.

Jemma’s arms wrap at his neck and he can tell from the upswell of noise from the living room that the hour mark is drawing nearer.

Her fingers play languidly with the tiny curls at the base of his neck. “I swapped time slots and presented earlier today.”

“Really?”

She nods, her smile easy and familiar as the countdown begins.

12... 11… 10…

“This is our tradition, after all,” she reminds him before kissing the tip of his nose.

9… 8… 7…

He’s still completely gobsmacked and his hands hang limply at his sides.  “But it’s just one year.  There’s always next...”

She shrugs.  “There is. But it just didn’t feel right ringing in the new year without you.”

6… 5… 4… 3…

He bows his head and finally allows his hands to move to her waist, tugging her closer.  “You know, I was right that first night.”

“How so?”

“You really are quite incredible.”

2… 1…

She laughs and shakes her head at his declaration. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Happy new year, Jemma.”  

“Happy new year, Fitz.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
